Lessons
by LxISxAxBABE
Summary: Matthew sees something he shouldn't... and Gilbert comes to his aid, through verbal and physical methods. "In fact, it's easier to teach that way." PruCan, some Frussia, M for a reason! Yaoi, pedophilia, dubcon... meaning, no likey no read-y.


Sooo... I wrote this why trying to complete a collection for _mon belle amie_, who frightens me to no end, but I love her to death regardless. :3 Yes, yes, I know. I'm a fool. :P This was to break up the monotony of the 5 stories I'm half-done with. After writing it, I've decided I need to be commited or washed in acid. Or both. So, please, to make losing my skin is worth it... please enjoy~!

Disclaimer: Seriously. Does it seem like I own Hetalia? I'm writing **fanfiction**. **Fanfiction**! If I owned this wonderful series... ohohohohohon... *lecherous grin*

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><p>I was probably eleven, still barely a man, when it happened. My Papa was a single father, trying to raise me the best he could alone. He was burnt out, tired, and I felt bad so I tried to stay out of the way.<p>

I was up in my room, laying on my bed and coloring, when I heard noises downstairs. I listened for a bit, then got up. What was going on…

My socks made soft padding sounds as I slunk down the stairs. Someone was moaning.

"Ohh… God, oh, God…!" That sounded like Papa- Panic struck me and I hurried toward the sound anxiously. Papa was groaning loudly, and I stopped at the door the sound was coming from. There was another person in there, making animal sounds, grunting and growling like a dog.

"Papa…?" I opened the door slowly and looked inside.

Papa was lying on the bed naked, his legs draped over the shoulder of another naked man. He was moaning and flushed, his fingers digging into the bed sheets. His hair was stuck to his forehead with sweat and his body was glistening. The other man was a silver-haired, pale man, with a muscled back and strong arms coated in sweat. He was holding Papa's hips against his, pushing against them again and again, and Papa's cries were getting louder and louder as he pushed.

"Ohhh, Gilbert, harder!" Papa cried out, driving his head back. The man pushed harder, and Papa was wailing. I watched, unable to pull away, as Papa arched his back.

"Ngh… s-so close!" he groaned loudly. The man chuckled breathily and rammed against Papa, and he made a breathy sound like a scream. A white stuff came out of him and got on him and the other man's stomach. The other man kept pushing in and out, and Papa purred softly until the man pushed hard and froze. Then Papa groaned uncomfortably. The man sighed and leaned forward, his hands on either side of Papa's shoulders, panting.

Papa leaned up and touched his lips to the other man's, who smirked.

"Mm… Francis… I remember why I always wait for you…" His voice was thick with an accent. Papa giggled.

"I'm glad you do. I absolutely _love_ that five meters you have." The man chuckled and pulled away from Papa. There was this 'shlking' sound and Papa made an uncomfortable sound again before shifting.

"Is your son home?" the man asked Papa. Papa nodded.

"Yes, but he's in bed by now… Don't worry…" The man chuckled and glanced toward the door. We made eye contact for a second and then I bolted, running. I didn't like that man. He was mean to Papa and he scared me. And he saw me! He was probably going to hurt me next-!

I didn't stop running until I reached my bedroom, and then I dove under the covers and hid the rest of the night.

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><p>When I was thirteen, I was sitting in the kitchen when Papa returned from work.<p>

"Mathieu, where are you? I have someone I'd like you to meet." I got up from the table and followed his voice to the parlor.

"Yes, Papa?" I began, then I froze. Beside him was the silver-haired man. I stared at him, knowing that he recognized me by the way he smirked.

"This is my boyfriend, Gilbert. Say hello."

"H-hi…"

"Don't worry about it." Gilbert looked toward Papa and chuckled. "Kids don't usually like me anyway. My own little brother was afraid of me until he was in fourth grade." Papa chuckled and shook his head

"Oh, all right." He looked at me and knelt down. "Gilbert is going to be living here for a while. Why don't you show him to the guest room?" I nodded stiffly and turned. Gilbert followed me as I walked up the stairs and around the corner. The guest room was right next to mine… I shivered slightly as I stopped.

"H-here." He smiled and tousled my hair.

"Thanks, kid." Then he paused and knelt down. "You saw something a little while ago, didn't you. Something you shouldn't have." I swallowed loudly, and he look me in the face.

"You're probably confused, right, Mattie? About what was happening? It's okay, you can say so." I stared at him. Then, slowly, I nodded. He smiled.

"I can tell you about it later if you want." I looked at him in wonder.

"Tell me…?"

"What we were doing," he said, smiling, "I can explain it all if you want me to." I nodded, and his smile widened.

"Alright. After supper, come to my room, and we can talk."

Papa made dinner and we all sat at the table. I was quiet, thinking, and Papa kept giving me concerned looks.

"Mathieu, are you feeling okay?" I looked up from my plate.

"Hm? Oh, I'm fine." I put a piece of food in my mouth to demonstrate, but Papa wasn't reassured. He put the back of his hand to my forehead.

"You don't feel warm…"

"He's fine," Gilbert said, munching contently, "Probably just surprised to have someone moving in. It's a surprise, trust me. When my dad's girlfriend moved in, I was the same way. Give him some time and he'll be fine." Papa nodded, still wearing his worried face, but he leaned back and took his hand off my forehead. I looked at Gilbert, and he just smirked and finished his meal.

After a few more minutes, I pushed my plate away.

"Papa, I'm not really that hungry… can I be excused?" He put on his worried expression again, but he didn't say anything about it.

"Of course, Mathieu, of course." I got up and emptied my plate in the garbage pail, then rinsed it at the sink and put it down. Papa watched me as I walked toward the stairs.

"Mathieu?"

"Yes, Papa?"

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes, Papa."

"Alright," he said, but again he didn't sound reassured. I turned and climbed up the stairs, thinking.

Gilbert was going to tell me about what him and Papa were doing. It didn't hurt Papa, maybe, since Papa's letting him stay.

Or maybe Gilbert's making him let him stay. Maybe Gilbert is controlling Papa. But then why would he tell me? Maybe he wants me to be like him. But I could never hurt Papa like him and make the white stuff come out.

What was the white stuff? I had never seen it before… but when Gilbert hurt Papa, it came out. What was it?

What if Gilbert wants to hurt me like he hurt Papa? I began to panic. I don't want to be hurt! I hurried into my room and sat on my bed.

Maybe I could tell him I don't want to be hurt, and he wouldn't do it. But if he wanted to, maybe he would. I'd have to fight him away. But I'm not strong…

I laid back and stared at the ceiling. Now I was scared. I wasn't worried before, but now I was scared and I didn't want to go see him. But I was still curious, and wanted to see him at the same time. Fear and curiosity combated each other as I lie there. But both of them were completely erased from my mind when I heard footsteps on the stairs. Was that Gilbert?

The footsteps drew closer and I sat up, biting my lower lip.

"Mathieu?" I sighed with relief and relaxed.

"In my room, Papa." The door opened, and Papa came in slowly. Softly, he shut the door behind him.

"Dear lord," he remarked as he looked around at my messy room, "You're reminding me of my friend's son." he laughed softly and found a clear path to my bed before sitting beside me. The bed squished a little since Papa was a lot bigger than me.

"Are you sure you're feeling okay?" he asked worriedly, "You don't seem yourself…" I nodded.

"I'm just thinking, Papa." He looked me over slowly.

"About what?" he asked softly. When he talked like that, he was really worried about me.

"Gilbert," I said. After all, it was only a half-lie. I don't think he knew I saw him with Gilbert, because he never talked to me about it, and when I see him doing things I shouldn't he usually tells me what he was doing and not to do them until I'm older. I didn't want him mad if he found out I saw so I wouldn't say anything. Papa put an arm around me.

"I'm sorry I've put so much on you so quickly, Mathieu, but… I really like Gilbert and I think something can come of this. You understand, don't you?" I nodded, even though I really didn't, and he smiled.

"You're such a smart, kind boy… and I'm sorry I worry so much." he looked at me gently. "It's just that you're my only son, and I can't bear the thought of you being sick or hurt. I'm sorry if I'm overbearing sometimes." I shook my head.

"It's okay, Papa. I like it that you care." he smiled the biggest yet and put his arms around me so he could hug me tightly.

"Thank you, Mathieu. I needed that." he kissed my cheek and released me. "I have cake downstairs; would you like some?" I shook my head.

"I'm not hungry, Papa. Thank you." He nodded and began to make his way to the door.

"Okay, Mathieu." He stopped at the doorway. "I'm leaving for a little bit, but Gilbert will be here." I tensed.

"Why?"

"I need to pick up some groceries. I'll be home quickly, I promise. But until then, you can get to know Gilbert more, okay?" I nodded, though on the inside, I was terrified. He smiled and opened the door.

"You're such a sweet boy, Mathieu. I'll see you when I get home." Then he shut the door behind him and I was terrified. I didn't want to be home alone with Gilbert! What if he did to me what he did to Papa? I heard talking downstairs, mumbling, and I got onto my floor and pressed my ear to the board to listen.

"… up in his room. I don't think he's feeling all that well, but I'm sure if you go in, he'll be fine. If you need help finding your way around the house, you can ask him. If you want anything, you can get it. I have beer in the fridge and wine."

"Francis, don't worry so much." he laughed. "I'll figure things out. And like I said, your son's probably not used to having more people in the house. Give him some time. Now go, go- don't give me that look, now- c'mon, go. We'll be fine." he laughed again.

"Fine. I'm going. Lord, you're so…" there was a long pause, then Papa said goodbye and shut the door. I scrambled to my feet and up to my window, and he was there, walking to the car, unlocking it and climbing into the driver's seat. The engine came on, and Papa drove away. I curled up on my bed. I was home alone with that man… the shivering came, then the worrying, and everything stopped again when I heard more footsteps on the stairs.

"Mattie!" I sat up straight, staring. "Matthew, where are you?" his accent made the words sound scary, and I laid down and pretended to be asleep.

"Matthew?" he was getting closer, and I tried to steady my breathing. His shoes clicked as he walked toward my room. "Are you up here?" he was outside my door, and I tried not to move as he opened the door.

"_Mein gott_, this is as bad as my room was," he mused, and I heard him come in. I hid my face with my arm, and I felt him sit down on the bed.

"I know you're not asleep, Mattie." he leaned back. "Your father is really worried about you." I didn't move. Maybe he didn't know I wasn't sleeping, he was just trying to see if I'd get up.

"I can tell you're afraid of me, too," he continued, "But I don't know why, and I want to know." he put a hand on my side and I flinched. Now he knows I'm awake!

"You can tell me. I won't say anything to your father."

Slowly, I rolled over and looked at him. He wasn't really scary looking… but his accent and what he did to Papa…

"I'm not scared," I lied. He shook his head.

"No, no, no. Lying doesn't get you anywhere, especially since I'm an expert at it." he looked at me with those piercing red eyes. "You can tell me. Is it because of that night?" I stopped. Then slowly, I nodded. He smiled.

"See? Was that so hard? Now" he shifted on the bed. "I promised I'd tell you." I sat up, holding my pillow to my chest.

"Have you had Sex Ed yet?" he asked. I cocked my head. What…?

"What's that?"

He chuckled. "Then that's a no." he kicked off his boots and they fell to the floor. "It's a class in school where you learn about having sex."

"What's sex?"

"Sex is what me and your papa were doing," he said bluntly. When I was older, I'd laugh at how utterly blatant he was with me. "It's usually when a man and woman want a baby." Then he chuckled. "Or if they want to have fun." I ignored the second part.

"But you and Papa are men."

"It works a little differently with us."

"Is Papa going to have a baby then?" He laughed.

"No, no, men can't have babies."

"Then how do you do it?" I was more confused than before. He looked at, with those dark red eyes, then smirked.

"Ain't you a curious pup." he shifted on the bed again. "You know what a penis is, right?" I nodded.

"Boys have them."

"Good. How about a vagina?" I paused. Then I shook my head. He chuckled. "Girls have them." I was shocked. Girls _were_ different! I thought Papa had just been saying that…

"If it's a man and a woman, a man puts his penis in her vagina." I thought about that for a moment.

"Then how…"

"But with two guys," he said, and I looked up at him, "You need to find a different hole."

"A vagina is a hole?" I asked. He nodded. I was confused.

"But you said boys don't have…"

"Like I said, you need to find a different hole." I pondered that.

"Where…" Then I understood. "That's dirty!" He cackled.

"Don't knock it 'til you try it, Mattie." Then his face lit up for a second. "In fact, it's easier to teach that way." He looked at me, smirk diluted for a moment. "Do you want to try it?" I paused, remembering back to that night. Papa looked so hurt…

"D… does it hurt?"

"A little," he said, "And only for a little bit."

"But… Papa…"

"He won't need to know," he said gently, not understanding what I was saying. "It can be our secret."

"But you hurt Papa," I said. He looked surprised.

"I did? No I didn't." he laughed. "He wasn't in pain, Mattie. He was enjoying it."

"He sounded hurt."

"You'll understand if you want to do it. He wasn't hurt, Matthew. I would never hurt your father." I looked at him a little longer, at his red eyes and silver hair. Then I nodded slowly.

"Okay."

"I don't want okay," he said, and I started, "I don't want to make you do it. I want a 'yes, I want to do it', or 'no, I don't want to do it'. It needs to be something you want. If you don't want to, we won't. Yes or no." I looked down at my hands.

"I'm a little scared…"

"Then we don't have to do it, Mattie." he touched my chin, and I looked up in wonder. He looked so kind, so gentle. So different from when I first saw him. Those red eyes didn't look as hard or bitter.

"Yes."

"Yes?"

"I want to do it." He was still holding my chin, and I saw the surprise in his face.

"You sure?" I nodded.

"Yes." he smiled.

"Alright. Here, put the pillow down…" He eased the pillow out of my grip and tossed it behind me. "Alright, undress." I looked up.

"Undress?"

"You hav'ta take off your clothes to do it, Matt," he said, laughing, and his hands were already at his buttons though he was waiting. I blushed and found the hem of my shirt. I pulled it over my head and threw it on the floor. Then I began to unbutton my jeans.

"Will Papa be mad?"

"It'll be our secret," he said, and that meant Papa would be mad. His shirt was thrown to the floor and he was working with his belt. It had a big, shiny buckle the color of steel. I pulled my pants down, but I got distracted by his belt and didn't pull them off. He looked at me and chuckled.

"You like? It's from my brother in Germany. He gave it to me when I left to come here."

"It's shiny."

"It's still new. Do you want to touch it?" I reached out, and it was cold against my fingertips. He exhaled softly as I put my hand around it. My fingers brushed against the rough denim of his jeans. It was cold and smooth, and I thought it was really pretty. I looked up and smiled.

"I like it."

He smiled, his eyes half-closed. "I'm glad." I kicked off my pants and moved to the waistband of my underwear. He pulled off his belt and discarded it, and was unbuttoning his pants as I pulled my underwear off. Then I waited. He wriggled out of his tight pants, and he was wearing shorts underneath.

"Why are you wearing shorts?" I asked. He looked down.

"They're not shorts, they're boxers."

"Boxers?"

"It's another type of underwear." He had his thumb underneath the waistband, and he looked at me. "I can't believe how little you know with Francis as your father."

"I know a lot," I protested, and he chuckled.

"I know, I know." He pulled his boxers down and crawled toward me.

"Have you ever kissed someone before?" he asked as I turned to him.

"I kissed Papa on the cheek," I said. He chuckled.

"That's it? Alright, here's another lesson. You trust me?" I nodded, and he leaned forward. Our lips touched softly, and he put a hand on the back of my neck gently to hold me close. Then I felt him turn his head slightly and open his mouth, and his tongue was pressing against my lips. I moved back a little.

"What..?"

"Trust me. It's fun, Matt."

"But…" I scooted forward again and looked at him. He smiled and leaned down to kiss me again, and when his tongue touched my lips, I opened my mouth. It came in and I felt it against my tongue. His tongue was long, and it kept brushing mine, like he wanted me to do it too. He tasted like chocolate and something else bitter tasting, but it wasn't bad. He moved closer to me, so I felt his skin against mine, and he slid me down onto the bed. I made a soft noise, and slowly we broke. I felt a little light-headed, panting, and he shook his head with a smirk.

"Sorry," he said, chuckling, "I forget we need to breathe every so often." I was in between his legs and the tip of his penis was touching my leg. I glanced down, as did he, and moved a little. It pressed against me more firmly.

"Why is it like that?" I asked.

"When you get excited, it gets hard so you can have sex."

"Oh." He reached down between my legs and took a hold of mine, and it felt really good. A soft sound came out of my mouth, and I was embarrassed for a moment before he began to run his hand up and down it. It stood up stiffly and I began to make more of that sound, that soft cooing and mewling. He leaned down and began to kiss and bite my neck. It felt really, really good. Then something was coming out of the end of my penis and I was embarrassed again. He wiped it with his thumb and slid it down the length of it, and it felt even better.

"W-what… that?" I mumbled.

"Precum," he said, "It's the stuff that comes out before the semen."

"Se… men?"

"The white stuff that makes babies," he explained, and I groaned. My hips jerked upward, into his hand, and he chuckled and let go.

"We don't want to ruin the fun early, now, do we?" I made a disappointed sound and he chuckled.

"Don't worry. It gets better."

"It does?"

"_Ja_." He reached off the bed, and I watched him go into his pants' pocket and pull out a little bottle.

"What's that?" I asked, panting slightly. He held it up.

"Lubricant."

"What's that?"

"It makes it so the penis can go in easier." He moved back and tapped my thigh. "Spread your legs, Matthew." I obeyed, and he pushed them open a little wider and lifted my hips up.

"It's gonna feel a little weird, okay? And it might hurt a little bit. Just tell me and I'll wait." I nodded, and he put the gel on his fingers and spread it over two of them. Then he reached between my legs, and his fingers touched my bum. I wriggled; the gel was cold. He chuckled and circled the little hole with his pointer for a moment. Then he pushed it in slowly, and it was a weird, icky feeling. I looked up at him, but he was concentrated on what he was doing. That finger slid in deeper and deeper into me, and I squeezed around it to see what he was doing. He groaned, and I was worried I hurt him. But he didn't look like he was hurt, and he wriggled his finger a little.

"Do that again, Matt." I did, and he groaned again.

"_Mein gott_… you're your father's son, all right…" then he drew that finger out, and another joined it. This hurt a little bit.

"Ow…"

He leaned down and kissed my forehead gently. "It's worth it, Mattie." I nodded and winced as he pushed those fingers in deeper. Then he began to move them like scissors, and I winced but wouldn't cry. Those fingers went as deep as the other one.

"I'm only going to do two fingers so I don't hurt you," he said, and he spread the fingers wide again, "Tell me if it hurts too much." I shook my head, and he turned the fingers slowly. Then he crooked his fingers and brushed something that sent waves of pleasure though my body. Before I could stop myself, I was moaning loudly, and my back was arching. My fingers dug into the bed sheets as I scrambled for something to grip. Then I flushed.

"S-sorry…"

"Don't be sorry," he said, chuckling, and he rubbed that spot. I moaned, embarrassed by the loud noises I was making. It felt so good-

The fingers were pulled out slowly, and I felt empty. I looked up a Gilbert, and he was putting the lubricant on his hand. I watched, fascinated, as he slid his wet hand over his trembling penis, and he groaned softly and purred as his slick fingers moved over every inch of it.

He drew his hand away and put on the bed, creeping between my thighs.

"Alright… if it really hurts, tell me. I'll stop." I nodded, and he held my hips and pulled me closer to him. The hand he had used on himself was wet and cold, and I shivered slightly. Then he pressed the tip of his penis against the little hole and pushed in.

It hurt really, _really_ bad, but I didn't want to make him stop. I bit my lower lip and whimpered as he pushed in deeper, groaning.

"Ungh… Matt… so tight…" Tears formed in my eyes and I tried to will them away, but they just ran down my cheeks.

"Ngh…" He stopped after a point, when I felt like I was going to tear, and looked at me. He chuckled softly and leaned down, pressing a kiss to the corner of each eye.

"Silly, silly… I told you if it hurt, tell me. You didn't have to act tough, Matthew." I nodded, shaking. He was so big… I don't know how he fit, and he was stretching me tight…

"Tell me when I can move again." He began to kiss and bite at my neck again, and one of his hands closed around my penis and began stroking it again. I groaned softly; through the pain, it felt really, really good. His tongue massaged one of the big veins in my neck, and his breath was hot and moist.

"Mm… Matthew, you taste so good…" he bit down slowly, sucking, and I don't know why it felt so good but it did. I groaned again, and I tightened around his penis. He made a deep, throaty sound.

"Ohh… damn…" he rocked his hips gently, and I felt him sliding inside of me.

"Annh…"

"Can I move, Mattie?" he whispered, still slowly rocking against me. I nodded, panting and flushed, and he smiled and drew his hips back. Then he pushed forward, pushing himself deep. He was slow at first, and it felt good, but for some reason, I thought it could feel better.

So didn't he. "Mattie, do you want me to go faster?" he asked teasingly, pushing in deeper. I gasped and grunted.

"Y-yes-!" He suddenly slammed against that spot from before, and I screamed. It felt so good, and he was thrusting faster, faster. My fingers were knotted in the sheets as he rocked against me roughly. There was a tight hot coil in my stomach and it was getting tighter and tighter as he pushed against me longer and longer, with the pleasure coursing through me like quicksilver. I was moaning and crying out, just like Papa had been, and Gilbert was grunting and growling again.

That coil got painfully tight, and I was crying out louder. I didn't care. It felt amazing.

"G-Gilbert~" I wailed. My hips jerked upward and I covered him in the white stuff as it shot out of my erection. My muscles involuntarily clenched around him, and he groaned loudly and began to push harder and faster.

I was in a state of complete pleasure, feeling him pounding into me but not caring. I felt like I was flying. What was this feeling? I slowly got down from my high, and Gilbert pushed himself the deepest so far. I felt something come out of him and fill me wetly. Then he sighed and slumped, panting.

"Was… was I good?" I could hardly believe the words coming from my mouth. He looked up. Then he smiled haggardly.

"Yes. Yes you were." Slowly, he pulled his softening penis from inside of me, and I realized that mine was limp as well.

"Did you enjoy it?" he asked softly, wiping his stomach off. I nodded, and he chuckled.

"See? I didn't hurt your Papa." he stood up, shuffling a bit, before slipping his hands under me. I felt the white stuff on my back but didn't say anything.

"What are you doing?"

"Giving you a bath so you don't get sick or sticky." I didn't ask why. "Where's your bathroom?" I helped him find it, and he turned on the shower and stepped in, still holding me.

"You can put me down."

"It'll hurt." I looked at him, and he sighed.

"Don't say I didn't warn you." Carefully, he set me down, and he was right. I winced but I refused to make a sound. He looked at me and smiled crookedly.

"Aren't you a trooper." he found a bar of soap and began to gently wash me, rinsing away the white stuff and sweat on my skin. He washed my hair gently, and I looked up at him and he just smiled gently.

"It's our secret, okay?"

After he washed me up, I dressed in pajamas as he washed my sheets. He had them nice and clean in little time, just before Papa came home, and he quickly made up my bed before he got upstairs. He urged me into bed, and he sat down, dressed in his clothes and looking immaculate when Papa came into my room.

"Oh, you're up here?"

Gilbert nodded. "I was just talking with Matt here about where I used to live. He's a bright boy, quick to learn." I smiled at the compliment, even if he was lying to Papa. Papa sat down, resting his hand on my knee.

"I'm glad you're feeling better, Mathieu," he said, smiling, and I nodded.

"I'm sorry I worried you, Papa."

"It's okay, _cher_, it's okay. I'm just happy you're better." he kissed my forehead, right where Gilbert did, and I smiled and laughed. He looked at me in surprise, and then began to laugh too. He didn't ask why, and I was glad because I didn't want to lie to Papa. Then he looked at me closely.

"Did you take a shower when I was out?" I was at a loss. Then I nodded.

"Yes, Papa." He looked at me a little longer, then stood up. My eyelids were getting heavy, I thought with a yawn.

"I bought ice cream," he said, smiling softly, "Would you like some?" Gilbert stood up, and I shook my head.

"Actually, not really," I admitted, yawning again, "I'm kind of tired." He nodded.

"Alright. I'll shut off the light on the way out then." Gilbert chuckled.

"I'll take you up on the ice cream offer, Francis." Papa rolled his eyes.

"You're such a child, Gil." He led Gilbert out, who winked at me over Papa's shoulder as Papa shut off the light. Then he shut the door.

I smiled and pulled the blankets around my tighter. Papa and Gilbert were talking, but I couldn't hear what they were saying and I didn't care. I felt a dull ache between my thighs, but otherwise, I felt really good and tired. The sheets were still sort of warm from the dryer, and I closed my eyes and curled up as sleep enveloped me.

* * *

><p>Francis looked at me across the table.<p>

"So what were you really talking about?" he asked, his voice dangerously low, "And why did you wash his sheets? Hmm?" I shook my head. Didn't he know…?

"Alright, you caught me. I brought some juice up to him. You know, to make him comfortable with me." he gave me a look, and I put my hands up. "It worked with my brother."

"You're brother was afraid of you?"

"Hey, hey, hey, don't doubt." I made a face. "I was twelve when he was still a baby. You know that my parents were divorced, Francis." He sighed and rested his head on his long fingers.

"So what were you talking about?"

"Just talking. Your house. Girls. Drinking. I knew you wouldn't believe the Germany thing." He shook his head.

"My god, Gilbert, you're a handful. _Drinking_, really now…? But... Matt seemed better. Whatever you did… it worked." He looked up, and he looked so tired. "Thank you… I was worried to death." I gestured, the 'no problem' had movement.

"I know how much he means to you, _liebling_." He smiled softly, and I stood up.

"I'm not staying in that guest room though."

"Mm? Why?"

"I have a perfectly good bed in your room," I replied, striding around the table. In one fell swoop, I gathered him in my arms. "And I'd rather be with you than anywhere else in this house." He chuckled.

"What about Mathieu?"

"If he walks in, all we're doing is sleeping. He already knows you're gay, what's the worst that could happen?" He sighed, and I carried him toward his room.

"My god, Gilbert…" Then he smiled, a radiant smiled that reminded me of why I wanted to come here in the first place. "I love you." I chuckled and set him on the bed, before beginning to undress for the second time that night.

"I love you too, Francis."

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><p><em>Mes chers, mes chers<em>, what would I do without readers? Yet how would I know that I have readers if none of you wish to comment on what I put forth? It's heartbreaking, _mes beaux_, very heartbreaking. It brings tears. *lies* To keep _votre belle tante_ (me) happy, you should leave comments. So R&R away~! Make _votre tante_ a happy person~! :D


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